Practicing Dhamma during a Pandemic
As COVID-19 (coronavirus) spreads around the globe, the media has been so busy reporting on the stunning developments in much of the Western world that the reality in other countries and cultures has often been overlooked. Many meditators now sheltering at home in their own places may be wondering about the view on the ground from Buddhist Burma, and how monasteries, meditators, and monastics are responding. Ashin Dhammosadha, a German monk living in Yangon, gives an update from his recent months there.
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“So while most of the world had been going wild for a few weeks, positive cases of the virus had not yet been confirmed in Myanmar, and life continued pretty much as normal. At the International Theravada Buddhist Missionary University (ITBMU) where I study in Yangon, we did have an emergency meeting about the virus at one point before exams. But since there was no officially confirmed cases yet, the board decided that we should remain and complete the exams, and then afterwards think about what to do.
However, a week into the exam period, the first two positive cases in Myanmar were announced. Starting that very night, people began panic-buying wherever possible, and several international schools closed the next day. So too at ITBMU, the very next day during my samatha exam, the dean came into the classroom and announced that the university would also close one day later, and all remaining exams would be cancelled. Then more information arrived soon after: all foreign students needed to return to their native countries by April 1st or, in case that there were no flights available or their country was under lockdown, they were required to stay at the university in strict self-quarantine until the opportunity to leave arose. We were not allowed to go anywhere else in Myanmar.
By that time, however, I had already been making plans with some monastic friends at Mahāsi Sāsana Yeiktha in Yangon to either join them there after my exams, or together find another place to practice. So I talked to the Sayadaw, and explained that there was no point for me to go back to my native country, Germany, because I did not live there anymore—where would I even go there, anyway? Plus, it would even be difficult for me to find food and shelter in Europe as a monk, as I had done in Myanmar for over two years. I said that Myanmar was now my country, my home. Besides, since the beginning of the outbreak, I had not worried too much about contracting the virus myself, since I am young and have no pre-existing medical conditions. And recognizing the apparent impossibility of containing the coronavirus in Myanmar, I had already accepted that if the virus came here, it would certainly spread… and I would simply get it, fall ill, recover, and be done with it. So I told the Sayadaw that I was resigned to contracting the coronavirus if it took root in Yangon, since I didn't see any chance that it could be possibly contained here. He agreed to relieve himself of any responsibility for me, and allowed me to leave the university to join my monastic friends.
Now the situation at Mahāsi Sāsana Yeiktha was very different than at my university. For the previous month, it had been on lockdown—no new foreigners nor locals were admitted, and at one point I could not even visit anymore during the day, as I typically did after my university classes finished. Nor could my friends leave the monastery, even for a day trip inside Yangon. The monastery committee had begun instituting social distancing measures, along with checking the temperature of all yogis and monastics before lunch. If anyone showed symptoms, such as coughing, sneezing or a running nose, they would be sent directly to the We Ba Gi Emergency Hospital, which had been repurposed as a quarantine site. At one point, even workers and other monastery visitors were sprayed with disinfectant from head to foot as soon as they crossed through the gate!
As I mentioned, at the university, in contrast, no measures of any kind were being undertaken during that same period: the gates were wide open, anyone was welcome to come and go as pleased, there was no hand sanitizer or anything else provided (and even when it finally was set out at the dining hall entrance, it was not obligatory to use it).
In my years living in Myanmar, I have come to know rural Burmese culture as well as its city life. Simple hygienic measures— such as washing one's hands with soap before handling food, covering one's mouth to cough, not sharing cutlery, dishes or cups with strangers, using fresh and clean water with suds for washing dishes and a clean towel to dry them, etc.—were just “common sense” to me as a European, but well, such precautions are rarely seen here.
Then there are the public clay water pots which are commonly set out for any passerby who wants to take a sip. On top of the pot, there inevitably rests just a single metal cup used to scoop out water, and of course, to put up to the mouth to drink from. These cups almost never get washed. It seemed so strange to me when I first came here that no one had introduced the idea of pouring the water from a certain height without touching the cup— like you see throughout India. I usually try to avoid drinking from these public waterpots, but when it is the only way for me to get water, I at least try to wash the cup beforehand. However, there is usually a smeary film of filth that won't come off without scrubbing with a brush! One doesn’t even want to think of all the betel spit that must have mixed with the water after someone used the cup to rinse his mouth—touching it with red lips, smeared with betel nut!
So back to the coronavirus—if just one of the workers at the university caught it, within just a day, ALL the other workers would get infected because they are all using the same cup at the water station, and it is never washed. All the more reason I am surprised that all the government suggestions I have seen so far concerning hygiene (especially in this age of COVID-19) focus only on washing hands. No one seems to have addressed this larger problem of sharing drinking cups, a practice that is ubiquitous across the country and culture. The same holds true for “the one and only spoon” in the communal pickled tea leaf snack and “the one and only soup spoon” that everyone uses to sip soup directly from “the one and only bowl.”
This lack of awareness around basic hygiene unfortunately is not only present throughout regular society, but also at institutions which you think would actually be the experts in basic hygenic practices: by that I mean, hospitals! Several times, when visiting public general as well as private hospitals in Myanmar, nurses have put me at risk of infection while taking blood or giving a blood donation. I have observed them not following the simplest of protocols, such as keeping their hands and utensils away from unclean surfaces during the process of inserting and removing a needle. Once when I gave a blood donation, a nurse used scissors that were covered in dried blood from prior patients to cut the pipe, and then with the same hands reached for some cotton wool and wanted to remove the needle and put the contaminated cotton wool on my open wound! So to be clear: here in Myanmar I am much more fearful of being forcefully sent to a hospital than of getting the Coronavirus. I—along with everyone else—am at risk of catching even more severe infections at the hospital than what I came there with in the first place!
So all this had set me thinking. Initially it might have seemed that the Mahāsi monastery would be a safer bet than staying at the university. However—although the efforts the Mahāsi Sāsana Yeiktha is making to keep the virus out of its compound are impressive, praiseworthy, exemplary and possibly unprecedented in Myanmar, I simply did not want to be put at risk of being sent to the hospital due to a flu or running nose, or even due to COVID-19 for that matter. And so my monastic brothers and I opted for trying to find a rural monastery where they would allow us to just nurse each other back to health should one of us fall ill, instead of waiting out the crisis in Yangon, either at the university or the Mahasi monastery.
But it wasn't easy to find such a rural monastery, at this time when almost all the international meditation centers and monasteries in Myanmar had stopped accepting newcomers, especially foreigners, since the onset of the pandemic. Although the virus does not discriminate against nationality, a certain xenophobia has recently taken place in Myanmar, and the presence of foreigners in a local setting now sets off alarm bells. Locals are even required to report merely seeing foreigners in their community otherwise they risk arrest. Moreover, the government had recently issued a ruling that monasteries were not allowed to take in any new guests at all, whether local or foreigner. So even though some Sayadaws initially accepted my request to reside at their monasteries, when we inquired further and they checked with the local immigration authorities, they ultimately found that they unfortunately could not get permission to receive us. The country is closing…
Then, unexpectedly, one of the families near my university that supported me on my daily alms rounds decided on their own initiative to help me. They located a place in Hmawbi [north of Yangon] that would be willing to take me right away. So we went, and I spoke to the Sayadaw to request permission for my two Western monastic brothers to come and stay as well. At first he was reluctant, because he said there might not be enough space during the Water Festival meditation course, when he was expecting 500 participants! He suggested that my friends could join after one month, once the Water Festival was over. Incredible…living in this somewhat remote location, the Sayadaw did not yet grasp the severity of the situation, nor that the government of Myanmar had already announced the suspension of all festivities during this year's Thingyan! Yet in this case, it was to our benefit that he didn't know the severity of the situation, for otherwise he would probably not have accepted us in the first place. So after asking a second time, he said that if we could not find another place, we were welcome there—on the condition that we took a daily alms walk since there might not be enough food otherwise. Happily we took this opportunity and on the very next day my friends arrived here.
So now I am passing my time in a nice little forest monastery on a hill. Very quiet, away from the village, with greenery on all sides, and the resident monks have been very kind and welcoming. We now stay in a simple room, the three of us together. The Sayadaw on the day we arrived told us we could stay for one month—but I am confident that by then, the Sayadaw will like us and allow us to stay longer…
I feel a deep sense of gratitude for the unlimited generosity and untiring support of the Burmese who adopted me as a foster-son into their hearts, and who keep supporting us foreign monks through this health crisis while many around the world, including my family in Germany and Italy, are struggling.
I was reflecting how people these days are touched by fear and are seeking a safe refuge, and I remembered from the Dhammapada that the real refuge is indeed the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Saṅgha. Seeking refuge there, one can see with true wisdom the four Noble Truths: suffering, its cause, its passing and the Eight-Fold Noble way leading to the tranquilizing of it… and thus becoming freed and safe from ALL suffering. So I find it really a precious and auspicious opportunity that we can stay together during this period as three kalyāṇamittas, true Dhamma Brothers, and support each other in developing our practice as our true refuge.
Wishing everyone well.”
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If you found this post of interest, the Insight Myanmar podcast would like to follow up on this topic by producing in-depth podcast episodes reporting on how the coronavirus is affecting monasteries and meditation centers throughout Myanmar. If you would like to listen to interviews with monastics and meditators sharing their stories throughout this pandemic, please consider making a contribution so that we can fund the effort. Even with volunteer contributors and discount wages, the cost of producing a full episode comes to $500. You can make a donation here.
